What Happens in Hobbiton
by simpsonfreak
Summary: Following the lives of various hobbit OCs. Ruby Bumbleroot is a few weeks away turning 33 and has invited anyone who wants to celebrate down to the Green Dragon inn. But when the other hobbits begin to make plans for the day the line between success and f
1. Sweet 33rd pt1- Ruby

**A/N: Thought I'd come crawling back to ... So... yeah... Uhh, I'm probably going to be rather annoying with this and have different one shots in different times so I thought I'd put the Shire Reckoning date in the chapter title. Also which Hobbit it centres around... yeah... I'm just expreimenting, if it's dumb then let me know.**

It took her a while to realise she was awake. Ruby opened her eyes and glanced at the clock. Seeing the time she groaned and sat up. She needed to get up now, before the rest of her siblings did. She would at least wake up Honeyshuckle. Ruby got to her feet and walked to one of her sisters' beds. "Honey..." She said, prodding the hobbit-shaped lump under the sheets, "Honey, get up before the stampede does."

The hobbit-shaped lump rolled over to face her, eyes still closed, "Sweet Elbereth... What time is it?"

"You have eyes, look at the clock."

Honeysuckle sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes, "I hate mornings..."

"We all hate mornings." Ruby replied flatly. She opened a draw and pulled on a peach coloured dress. "I'll meet you in the kitchen." She murmured before leaving the room, picking up a hairbrush and a ribbon as she did so. She walked down a short corridor, brushing waves of strawberry-blonde hair all the Bumbleroot children had. She walked past the boys' bedroom; all was quiet. They probably weren't awake yet. The smell of freshly-baked seedcakes hit her when she walked into the kitchen. Her mother looked up from wiping the table and smiled, "Good morning, Ruby."

"And a 'good morning' to you too." Ruby replied, cheering up at the prospect of food. She hastily tied back her hair with the ribbon and set the brush on a table. She walked to the cooling tray of seedcakes and picked one up.

"Are any of the girls up yet?" Her mother asked as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"Only me and Honey. Speak of the devil... Good morning, sister of mine!"

A rather bedraggled looking Honeysuckle walked into the kitchen, "Go away." She muttered, picking up and apple from the fruit bowl. She bit into it with a satisfying crunching sound and a small amount of juice ran down her chin.

Ruby watched her, sipping the too warm tea carefully, "I was thinking about going to The Ivy Bush later. I'd like it if you went with me."

"No thank you." Honeysuckle replied, her voice void of any emotion.

"I wasn't asking."

"I don't care, I'm not going."

Ruby sighed and leaned against the table, picking up another seedcake. "You act like it's a punishment. It'll be fun! We can drink, dance, sing, meet lads... Mother, tell her."

"I'm not getting involved." She called from the living room.

"Good morning, various family members!" Fastolph chimed as he wondered in from the corridor. "And how fair you all on this fine morning?"

Ruby smirked, "We fair well, thanks for asking. Me and Honey are going to The Ivy Bush this evening, care to join?"

"Yeah, sure." He returned her smirk with a bright grin and proceeded to smother a small bread roll in jam, "I might get Hambut to come.

"Great." She beamed, "It'll be Yule come early."

"Ruby, I am _not_ going. Look, if it'll make you happy I'll go to an inn with you on your birthday."

Ruby threw her head back and sighed, "I suppose it'll have to do. I guess it's just you and me then, Fastolph. You can try Hambut but I don't think he'll be overly keen."

"You're probably right. Oh!" He stood up straight and clicked his fingers, "I forgot to say that you might was to get a move on; Ferdi and Togo are awake and I'm sure I heard Poppy and Daisy in your room."

"Oh dear." She went to Honeysuckle, grabbed her by the wrist and practically dragged her out of the room, "Goodbye, we'll see to this afternoon!" She pushed open the round door that was the entrance to their home and let go of Honeysuckle's wrist.

"I hadn't finished my tea..." Honeysuckle muttered.

"You're very pessimistic, I hope you know that. Anyway, what's your day looking like?"

"Oh, you know... Heard anything on the underground fish-vine?" She asked, looking at her sister expectantly.

"What? Oh. Haha, very funny. I don't enjoy working on the fish stall, you know. If I had heard about anything I'd be inclined not to tell you."

Honeysuckle sighed and tossed her head back, "I swear, if I have to spend another day in the company of Moro Loamsdown-"

"I'm afraid you'll have to, at least for now. Is your project not working then?"

"Apparently not. I think he's keeping me on as a maid because he knows I dislike it."

A devilish smile spread across Ruby's face, "You know, you could always forget about the Loamsdowns by coming to the tavern..."

"Stop it." She growled, "How's your work going?"

"Slimy, smelly and generally unpleasant, thanks for asking. Well, I guess this is where we part." They had reached the point in the path where they had to split up. Ruby going left for the market place. Honeysuckle going right for the Loamsdown's hole. "Bye, Honey. Have a tolerable day."

"You too. See you later."

Ruby continued on in silence. She preferred talking to people while she walked. It meant she didn't think about things. She grew close to the market, she could see the flower stall. "Bramblerose!" She called to the lass at the stall.

At the sound of her name the lass turned, pretty features lifting into a smile when she saw Ruby. "Hello, Ruby!" She called, waving.

Ruby had broken into a jog by this point, glad to talk to someone. "Rose, how are you? How's the stalker?"

Bramblerose flushed, "I wouldn't call him a stalker, I think he's quite sweet really..."

"Stalker." Ruby repeated. "No sane person buys flowers from someone just to give them back later."

"I'd really rather not have this conversation with-"

"Ruby-lass! Get here, we need to open that stall and that won't happen with you chatting to our competition all day."

She let out a breath and smiled at Bramblerose, "We can talk later." She turned to her employer, a smile plastered on her face. This was going to be a long day.

**A/N: I really need to get better at writing -_- Hopefully writing fan fiction again will help...**


	2. Sweet 33rd pt2- Moro

"But how do they get them into the bottle?"

Moro pushed his glasses further up his nose and watched as his sister gazed curiously at a small ship in a bottle, "Does it matter?"

She glanced up at him irritably, "I'm just wondering. You don't need to be like that about it."

"I'm only saying that I don't see the point." Me muttered, eyes wondering to the family maid as she busied herself around the room. "It's in the bottle now so why should it matter how it got there?"

Posie's eyes lit up and she put the bottle back on the table, "That means you don't know."

He scowled and looked back down at his book, "I wouldn't say-"

"Olo!" Posie cried, running from the living room, "I found something Moro doesn't know!"

"Oh God..." He sighed, rubbing his temple, he was beginning to get a headache. "I need to go to bed..."

"Is that an invitation?"

He looked sharply up at the maid, he had forgotten she was there, "Miss Honeysuckle..." He growled, "I would like it if you either picked what's left of your mind up out of the gutter, or left me alone. Whichever would suit you better."

"I love you too, Moro." She murmured while attempting to dust one of the higher shelves of the bookshelf.

His cheeks and nose were starting to turn red as he asked, "Shouldn't you have gone home by now? It's getting late"

"But then I wouldn't be able to see you, my beloved."

He gritted his teeth and started to walk out to his bedroom, "I'm going to ignore you now."

"You cannot fight destiny!" She trilled as he left the room.

Moro groaned. His headache now felt as though someone was continually pressing his head between a stone floor and a dictionary. "God, I hate her..."

0000

Moro rolled over in bed. "Oh God..." he murmured. "I have to stop getting up so late..." He reached out a hand to his bedside table to find his glasses. His hand met with the smooth surface of the table and nothing more. Opening his eyes he looked blearily at the table. Even without his glasses he could tell the glasses weren't there. Starting to panic he leaned out of bed and felt the floor to see if they'd fallen in the night.

They hadn't.

He sat up in bed, "Hullo!" He called, "Mother? Father? Olo, Posie? Is anyone here?" Not hearing a reply he stood up and carefully made his way out of the room, cursing under his breath. He found his way to the kitchen and saw the blurry form of Honeysuckle. She had her back to him and was washing up the plates and cups in the sink. He didn't want to have to ask her for help but as no one else seemed to be in the hole he didn't have much of a choice. "Miss Honeysuckle?" He addressed the blur, "Have you by any chance seen my glasses? I seem to have misplaced them."

"I found them this morning." She replied, not turning around, "I put them on the dining table there."

"Thank you." He replied, "As a thank you I now have a marginal amount of respect for you."

"Duly noted."

He walked to the table and searched for the elusive glasses. He couldn't seem to find them, the only thing he could find was a bottle. He picked up the bottle and lifted it so he could get a better look. As his eyes focused on the bottle he froze. Inside, lenses winking playfully, were the glasses. He scrabbled at the cork and tried to tip the glasses out before realising the neck of the bottle was too thin for them to come out.

He turned on Honeysuckle, seizing her by the shoulders. "What the bloody Mordor did you do to my glasses?" He bellowed, eyes blazing fiercely.

"You didn't know how they got the ship in the bottle." She said grimly, "I thought it would be good way for you to find out."

"You no good excuse for a hobbit!"

She wriggled out of his grasp and bolted for the door. Moro tried to grab her but missed and ended up clutching the kitchen work service to keep himself from falling. He steadied himself and glared at Honeysuckle who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen in triumph. Though he couldn't see it, he knew she was smiling smugly. "You could break the bottle." She said.

He glared up at her, "Then the lenses would break, _you moron_."

"You know, you could just tell you father about this." She said, "Then he'd fire me and I'd be out of your hair."

He looked up, smiling at his new power, "Oh no, that's what you want. You'll be working here for a long time, Miss Honeysuckle."

She scowled and walked away, "If you say so, Moro. Now if you'll excuse me I have to see the glassblower, I've got another job for him. "


	3. Sweet 33rd pt3- Tiger Lily

**A/N: I've messed this up. Ignor the last Author's Note, just... ignor me... I've got no idea what I'm talking about half the time.**

The young hobbit, book in hand, pushed open the door and peered out. She let out a breath when she saw no one was there. She scuttled out like a mouse leaving its hole and made a beeline for the woods that surrounded Tuckborough. When she felt safely enclosed she let out a breath and continued to walk at a slower pace. She didn't like being in the company of other hobbits, it was always so... painful. Of course, she was comfortable with hobbits she'd known for a long time, her family and so on. She liked the woods, they were enclosed enough to hide her but not so much she'd feel restricted. The forest was her sanctuary; no one would find her here.

"Hullo! Tiger! Tiger, I saw you coming in here."

She stopped and made a soft whimpering noise. Someone was in her sanctuary. She turned reluctantly to the voice. When she saw who it was she closed her eyes and sighed, "Oh, it's you."

"Well, that's a fine way to talk to family." The lad replied, grin on his features. "If I didn't know better I'd say you were trying to avoid me."

She looked down and started to pick at the worn corner of her book cover. "I'm not trying to avoid you I'm just trying to avoid... hobbits."

He burst out laughing at this, "Well, you're going to have a hard time at that, considering you are one."

She frowned at him and sighed, "Go away, Pippin."

"Aw, come on, Tiger. I was only joking."

"Please don't call me 'Tiger'. Only my parents call me that."

He shook his head in frustration, "You're too serious by half. I've never seen you at any of the inns."

"I don't like the inns... they're so loud and crowded and... I just don't like them." She said, sighing. "Why are you here anyway?"

"Oh, I'm meeting Merry here. We're going fishing."

She paled a little, "What?"

He didn't hear; he had spotted Merry and was waving to him, "Hullo, Merry! Over here!" Tiger Lily hugged her book like it was her lifeline. She thought she was going to cry. The unfamiliar hobbit walked into view, two fishing rods over his shoulder. "Oh, Merry, this is Tiger Lily. She's my... cousin of some sort I suppose... I'm not sure. How are we related?" He asked looking at Tiger Lily.

"Uh... I don't know really... probably through our fathers..." She whispered while staring at spot on the ground. It had suddenly become very difficult to look Pippin in the eye.

"Alright then. Merry, this is Tiger Lily Took, a relation of some description. Tiger, this is Meriadoc Brandybuck, my friend and cousin."

"Nice to meet you."Merry said, holding his hand forward for her to shake.

She looked at the hand, then slowly extended her own and shook it slowly. She felt unable to look him in the eye and continued to stare at the ground.

"Are you alright?" Merry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhh... yes..." She could feel her face growing warm, "Bye, Pippin..." She scurried further into the woods, calming down at being able to leave.

Merry turned into his cousin, "Are you sure she's a Took?"

Pippin shrugged, "Yeah, probably."

"Does she act like that with everyone?"

"Not with family, she knows them too well. I keep on telling her she needs to get out more, get her confidence up. She just needs a little push..." He was silent for a moment then his face lit up, "Merry... I've just had a really good idea."

"Pip, you don't have good ideas, you only have ideas. Where are you going?"

Pippin was now sprinting towards the edge of the wood. He glanced over his shoulder and shouted, "I'm going to see Fastolph Bumbleroot, nice guy, you should meet him."

"But what about fishing?"

"Another day."

Merry stood in disbelief for a moment, staring after Pippin. Then he shook his head and turned around, walking back the way he came.


	4. Sweet 33rd pt4- Hambut

Hambut stumbled up the garden path to his house. He had one had to his eye, trying to sooth the stinging. When he reached the door he took his hand away from his eye, composed himself and walked in like nothing was wrong. He walked through the entrance hall to the living room where Togo and Ferdirand were playing snap on the floor.

"Hello, Hambut!" Togo said brightly before glancing up at him, "Elbereth!" He cried, his eyes growing wide.

"Togo!" Their mother called, walking into the room, "What have I told you about language like- Oh my goodness! Hambut, what happened?"

He sighed irritably and slumped into a chair, "Nothing."

Pansy scowled and walked out again, "Fosco, get your son to tell you how and where he got the back eye."

There was a muffled shout from another room. A very disgruntled hobbit walked into the room a few seconds later. When he saw the black eye he threw down the cloth he'd been wiping his hands with, "For Elbereth's sake, Hambut! What have we told you?"

"I'm sorry, father." He said, throwing his head back.

"You're damn right you're sorry." He growled, seating himself in a chair, "What the bloody Mordor were you thinking?"

"Fosco..." Pansy sighed, re-entering the room with a bowl of warm water and a cloth. "Could you at least attempt to watch your tongue around the young ones?"

Fosco glanced at Togo and Ferdirand who were snickering to themselves. He looked back to Hambut who was struggling against his mother's attempts to treat the bruise, "Who were you fighting when you got the black eye?" He asked.

"Leave off, mother! I'm not a child!" He said, swatting away the damp cloth and trying to avoid the question.

"Hambut!" Fosco barked.

He sighed, "Ted Sandyman." He muttered.

"Of course it was." Fosco rolled his eyes, "It's not worth it, it's never worth it."

They heard the front door open and Berylla's voice, "Hey, me and Fastolph home! Hello?" She walked to the doorway of the living room. She glanced at Hambut and let out a laugh, "Oh no! Did we miss a fight? I'd like to have watched."

"This isn't funny, Berylla." Her father growled.

"Hey, Fastolph!" She called over her shoulder, "Hambut's got a black eye!"

"Really? Let me see."

Hambut sighed, "Yes, everyone come and gawp at me. It's not like I'm a hobbit with feelings; that would be a ridiculous notion."

Fastolph appeared behind Berylla and ginned, "Yes! Well done, old dog! You got your first battle wound! Now all you need is to kiss a lass and you'll be a proper man!"

"That's it!" Hambut bellowed, getting to his feet, "I'm going! Get out my way!" He pushed his siblings aside and stormed to the boys' room where some very loud cursing was heard a few seconds later.

Berylla cast Fastolph a side glance, "Is it true he's not kissed a lass yet?"

"I think so."

"We need to try and get him out of the house more. Did you find your cloak?"

"Yep, let's go." He said with a grin.

They left the house. When they were at the garden gate they were met by a very windswept hobbit astride a small pony. "Fastolph!" He cried, waving a hand to get their attention.

"Hello, Pippin!" He called, waving back.

The hobbit dismounted, "Hullo, Fastolph, and Miss Berylla."

"Master Pippin." She greeted with a smile, "It's not like you to be in this part of the West Farthing."

"Well, I was actually looking to talk with your brother." He said, turning to Fastolph, "I'm looking for someone. I was wondering if you or any of your siblings knew anyone who'd fit the description."

Fastolph raised his eyebrows, "Who are you looking for?"

"Well... when I say I'm looking for someone I don't have a specific hobbit in mind. I'm looking for a lad, one that's fairly confident but terminally unlucky in love."

Fastolph smirked at a name floated into his line of thought, "I might know someone like that... a brother of mine in fact, but I'd like to know what you need him for."

Pippin grinned, "In which case, I have a proposition involving him and a friend of mine."


End file.
